Daddy Doesn't Lie
by Confetti Leaves
Summary: Gone Country Challenge - December Prompt. How do you get a five year old to believe that Santa is real? Here's how... Co-written with ArwenLalaith.


"_Grandma got run over by a reindeer, walking home from our house Christmas eve. You can say there's no such thing as Santa, but as for me and Grandpa, we believe." _

_- Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer_

_******_

Emily yawned softly before snuggling closer to Morgan, a contented smile crossing her face. She sighed contently as she watched the flames dance in the fireplace, the heat radiating off of it flushing her face.

He felt her shivered slightly and pulled her closer. "Cold, baby?"

"A little," she smiled up at him and traced the outline of his firm mouth with a manicured fingertip. He grinned at her, the genuine smile that she loved.

He grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over them, effectively wrapping them up like a cocoon. "Better?"

"Much," she smiled, pulling him down to her level and kissing him passionately. Morgan eagerly returned the kiss and let his hands roam under her shirt.

Before they could get very far, a soft voice interrupted them. "Mama? Daddy?"

They reluctantly pulled away from each other and smiled at their five year old daughter. "What are you doing up, Katie?"

"I had a nightmare..."

The two adults shifted over on the couch so that the little girl could cuddle up between them, "Oh, sweetheart," Emily said gently, "What was it about?"

She looked up at them with big, tear-filled eyes and sniffled, "I dreamed that Santa wasn't coming..."

"Of course Santa's coming," Morgan soothed, "You've been such a good girl, why wouldn't he come?"

Her bottom lip began to quiver as she broke out into sobs, "But Brittney said Santa isn't real!"

"Why would she say that?" Emily asked, gently running her fingers through her daughter's raven locks.

"I don't know," the little girl sobbed, "I told her that I've been a good girl this year. I eated my vegetables and tied my own shoelaces so, Santa is going to put nice presents in my stocking. Then she told me that her big sister said that Santa isn't real..."

Morgan sighed softly. He hated to see his little girl cry. So, he pulled her onto his lap and said, "Don't cry, Princess. Brittney's big sister doesn't know what she's talking about. Santa's real..."

"Really, Daddy?"

"Of course," he smiled, "Has Daddy ever lied to you?"

"How do you know that Santa's real, Daddy?" the five year old looked up at him with curious brown eyes.

"Umm..." Then he caught Emily's eyes. She gave him the 'I'd like to see how you get out of this one' look.

Then, an idea came to mind and he smiled. Leaning close to the little girl, he said in a hushed voice, "You really want to know?"

She nodded vigorously, her eyes wide with wonder. Emily just smiled to herself; Morgan may have been a lot of things, but the one that he was best at was being a father. And he was a pretty good liar too, when he wanted to be.

"Have I ever told you the story about what happened to my Grandma when I was little?" he whispered.

"You were never little," Katie giggled. But then her face became deadly serious, "What happened?" she asked in an identical whisper.

"My Grandma got knocked down by one of Santa's reindeer..."

"No..." her eyes widened, "You're lying."

"I'm not lying," Morgan gently insisted.

"Really? Then how did it happen?" Emily joined in their conversation.

Morgan leaned in close to her and whispered, "You were supposed to be helping."

She shrugged and said, "Katie, do you want to know how it happened?"

"Yes," she insisted, "How did it happen, Daddy?"

"Well," Morgan started, glaring at Emily, who returned his glare with a smile. "It was late on Christmas Eve and my Grandpa and Grandma were on their way home from my house after dinner."

He chuckled softly to himself at the identical brown-eyed gazes from his two favourite girls as they listened to his story, riveted.

"It was pretty dark," he continued, "And they couldn't see very well in the first place... That's why they couldn't see Santa's sleigh in the sky as he flew to bring presents to the good boys and girls in our neighbourhood."

Katie interrupted, "Wouldn't they _hear_ his sleigh? It has lots of bells, you know..."

"That's right, it does," he continued unphased, "But weren't listening very closely because they were too busy arguing about what kind of cookies are the best."

Emily had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Boy, he sure could string a good yarn when the thumbscrews were tightened.

"That's silly," Katie said, shaking her head and, for a split second, they thought she was going to call him out again. "Everyone knows the best cookies are chocolate chocolate chip."

"That's right, they are the best," Morgan agreed, "But I guess they didn't know that..."

"Then what happened?" Katie asked, eager to know to happened next.

"Now, before I go on, you have to promise me you won't tell anyone else about this," he said firmly.

"Why not?"

"It wouldn't look very good on Santa when people know that he isn't a very good driver, would it?" Morgan explained, "If many people knew about this, some people might not let him drive his sleigh around anymore. Then you'll have no presents..."

"I promise I won't tell anyone," Katie said seriously, holding up her little pinkie for a pinkie promise.

"That's my girl," Morgan grinned.

"Well, _your _Grandma bakes the best cinnamon rolls and she always made some for us to eat on Christmas morning. And before they left our house, my Mom gave them some to take home with them. And, as the reindeer were flying overhead, they smelled the cinnamon rolls and they were really hungry from flying such a long way from the North Pole. They flew down really low to get some and **BAM!**" The little girl jumped slightly at the noise. "The reindeer bumped into my Grandma and knocked her over into the snow..."

"Oh no..." she breathed, "Was she okay?"

"Of course she was," Morgan assured, "Santa's magic, you know. But we all heard the great big noise inside and we came rushing out to see what was going on. And you know what we saw?"

"What?" she whispered, eyes the size of saucers.

Morgan leaned in really close and Katie did the same. He allowed a lengthy pause to build suspense, then he whispered, "Nothing..." Katie looked at him skeptically. "Just Grandma and Grandpa looking confused. But their cinnamon rolls were gone and I saw hoof prints in the snow... And if you listened very carefully, you could hear Santa laughing as he flew away."

"Wow..." she breathed. Then she quickly turned to Emily, "Mama, we have to put some cinnamon rolls out for the reindeer too."

Emily smiled and shook her head. "I'll do that later, sweetheart. It's way past your bedtime. Santa doesn't come if you're awake."

"But I wanna see Santa," Katie said. "Please Daddy..." she pleaded, her eyes large and innocent. She'd already learned how to work that look and usually with the desired results. She knew she had her father wrapped around her little finger; her mother, on the other hand, wasn't such an easy mark.

"But Katie," Morgan whispered conspiratorially, "If I let you stay up, then Santa won't bring _me_ any presents... Then I'd be really sad." Then, in the best acting Emily had ever seen him do, he brought his hands up to his face and pretended to cry.

Katie gasped and tugged at his shirt. "Don't be sad, Daddy!" she urged, "I'll go to bed!"

He fake sniffled and looked out from behind his hands. "Really?"

She was already half-way up the stairs. "Good night, Momma. Night, Daddy," she called.

Waiting until they heard her bedroom door slam closed, Emily turned to Morgan with a raised brow. "You are such a liar..." she said, "You'd better hope Santa doesn't come, he'll be leaving coal in your stocking."

He pulled her to him and kissed her. "Well, then, you'd better punish me..." he breathed against her ear.


End file.
